The Sociopath and the Pathologist
by Lackadaisical.Lover
Summary: Molly Hooper has her future all mapped out. Clever and Hardworking, She is determined to succeed in becoming a Pathologist. All that changes when she meets Sherlock Holmes, A mystery-solving, drug-taking sociopath who got shipped off to Uni as punishment for his bad decisions. .(The Prince and Me AU. M for language,drug use, crime solving and possible smut. First Fic. Pls Review)
1. Chapter 1

**Northamptonshire, England**

She sat in a stool and peered into the microscope on the laboratory table. She squints and sighs, adjusting the focus of the lens. She silently prays that she'll be able to analyze the specimen before her shift ends. She sat there for a long time fiddling with the instrument, only fidgeting occasionally in her seat when her back became strained. She was so lost in her work that she didn't notice people in lab coats entering the room. A middle-aged man with graying hair cleared his throat hoping to catch her attention, unfortunately it escaped her notice. He stepped forward.

"Ah..Erm..Molly?" he said, gently tapping her on the shoulder.

The sudden physical contact startled her; she squeaked and turns around to see the staff members of the clinic she was working for part-time all lined up, each holding a cupcake with a lighted candle on top.

"SURPRISE!" Her co-workers shouted in unison. For a moment she was confused as to what the occasion was. "It's not my birthday", Molly said to herself wondering. Then she remembered. She had been accepted for a scholarship to Harvard Medical School. She beamed at her workers at the sudden recollection.

"Oh everyone thanks so much!" she said as she stood up from her stool and made her way to her co-workers. "How did you guys find out? I haven't mentioned it at all!"

The head nurse, Edith, came forward and gave her a tight hug. "Word get around love! Especially if it's about our girl getting such grand news! A scholarship to study in America! Well done dear!" She said lovingly.

"Indeed! Well done Molly!" said Dr. Lawrence, as he pushed back his graying hair with his free hand while handing the cupcake he held to Molly. "Three cheers for Molly Hooper everyone! To our future Harvard graduate pathologist!"

Molly flushed as her co-workers surrounded her, offering their congratulations and well wishes. She's only worked at that small clinic for couple of months and already she feels the pain of parting with them. All of them have been supportive in her dream of being a pathologist; teaching her to some basic and advanced chemical procedures, giving her hours of laboratory time and allowing her to use the clinic's supplies when she did her own little experiments. She stood there surrounded by people who wished for nothing more than for her to succeed. A part of her will greatly miss her friends and family when she leaves for Harvard, but the other part of her is thrilled at the prospect of her dreams finally coming true.


	2. Chapter 2

**London, England**

He woke up with a groan.

His mind was hazy having just come out of slumber. He tried to open his eyes but his facial muscles seem to be having a difficult time obeying him. From the itch on his forearm he could tell that he had been shooting up again and by the putrid stench of his surroundings he had deduced that he was not at home. His ears catch the sound of light traffic nearby he figured he was probably in one of his bolt holes, an abandoned building frequented by his kind.

His mind had become clearer as he recalled the events of the previous night. He remembered arguing with his mother for outing his father's affair during dinner and storming off into the night. He was irritable then, obviously due to the pressing need to satisfy the itch for heroin. He tried to open his eyes again and was momentarily blinded by the light coming from the window. His eyes adjusted and saw that he was indeed in his bolt hole, surrounded by others just him. People who needed to drown their sentiments with their pick of poisons.

He sat up from the cold floor that he had been lying on and took his head to his hands as he tried to block more memories from last night; His father's stony face, his mother's tears, his brother glaring daggers at him. He was so focused on putting these unpleasant memories into a box, to be locked away in his mind palace that he hardly noticed the man who was now standing in-front of him. Only when the man spoke that he lifted his hands and saw the face of the last person he didn't want to disappoint.

"Sherlock" the man said, his voice filled with worry.

"John" Sherlock said curtly. He eyed his friend from head to toe. The clothing he was wearing was the same as what he had donned yesterday. The copious amount of mud on John's shoes and jeans and the smell of his jumper and jacket told him that his friend had gotten around a fair bit, possibly all night. His deduction was further reinforced by the sight of his friend's sandy brown hair which has been matted by sweat. His eyes glanced all over his friend, gathering information on what John's activities had been while he was in his heroin-induced sleep. Sherlock avoided looking at John's eyes though. For he already knew what lies within them.

"Jesus Sherlock! Come on up, let's get you out of here!" John said as he grabbed his friend's arm and raised him to his feet.

"I'm not going back home John" Sherlock said, as his feet adjusted to support his weight. "I..I don't want to.." He said quietly as he rested his head on John's shoulders. John stiffened at Sherlock's sudden moment of weakness but he braced himself to support his friend's weight.

"It's alright Sherlock. You're not going back home. Arrangements have already been made" John said quietly as he patted his Sherlock's back. Sherlock immediately stood upright upon hearing this. His face, seething.

"If Mycroft things he can ship me off into some facility again well he can damn we-"

"No Sherlock" His friend quickly explained. "You're not going to rehab. Mycroft has already made some arrangements. You're going to a university in America".

"I'm what?" Sherlock said, managed to smile as Sherlock's face contorted in confusion. He took a step towards Sherlock and placed his hands on his shoulders, patting away the dust and grime that have found their way into Sherlock's coat. He fixed his friend's trademark scarf that had become undone during the night's activities and turned his collar up, grinned and said,

"Congratulations Sherlock, You're going to Harvard Medical School"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

It was 6 o'clock in the evening by the time Molly was able to find her dormitory. Molly adjusted the strap of the rucksack on her shoulder as she made her way through the crowded hallway of Vanderbilt Hall. Students were coming in and out of the rooms, trying to settle in for the upcoming school year. Molly checked the paper she held on her right hand for her room details and kept walking, occasionally glancing at the room numbers posted on the doors as she passed through. She walked for a couple more minutes until she found what she was looking for, Room 222.

She adjusted her rucksack again and knocked tentatively on the door. She heard a muffled noise coming from inside the room. Molly reached for the handle and slowly opened the door, peeking in to see where the noise came from.

"Hello?" Molly said quietly, as she peeked in.

She saw a short haired blond woman holding a load of clothes in her arms, trying to shove the lot inside a wooden dresser. The woman looked up from her tasked and smiled at her.

"Well hello there, my name is Mary. Mary Watson. I guess we'll be roomies. Come on in!" She said brightly. Mary shoved the last of her bundle into a drawer and held out her hand as Molly made her way to the room and took it.

"My name is Molly Hooper. Pleasure to meet you" Molly said shyly as she shook hands with her new roommate.

"Oh you're English too then?" Mary said, recognizing Molly's accent. "Brilliant! I won't feel as homesick as I thought I would be" she said with a laugh. "Sorry for the mess" Mary said gesturing to the array of boxes lying on the floor. "I'll try to sort it out as soon as possible".

Molly looked around and took the opportunity to assess the room properly. It was a simple two bed room. They would each have a dresser and a desk and they would have to share the bathroom. It was small but cozy. Molly would feel very comfortable here.

"It's alright" Molly said brightly. "So I take it you'll be taking the left side bed then?" She asked, eyeing the bed filled with random clutter.

"Oh yes, Sorry about that. I should've waited to ask which one you'd prefer" Mary said apologetically

"Oh no it's fine. The right one suits me just fine" said Molly. She made her way to the bed and pulled her suitcase to the bedside, and placed her rucksack on the bed as she sat down. She was contemplating on whether or not to start unpacking when she heard Mary speak up.

"So listen, I know you must be tired from travelling. What do you say we go out and get to know each other over some food and drinks? I've heard for the other students there's a bar near here and I'm famished"

Molly remembered she hadn't had anything to eat since she boarded her flight at Heathrow airport but she knew she had a lot of things to do to be ready for her first day tomorrow. Mary, sensing Molly's hesitation, looked at her imploringly.

"Come on love, There's plenty of time to be busy when classes start. Let's have one last night of fun before we're up to our eyeballs in papers and exams" she said, slightly pouting.

Molly looked at her roommates pleading face and gave in.

"Alright then" she said grinning. "Let's go"


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes:

The school, the location, and the dorm is real. I researched those.

The details of the case, are all fictional. Any reference to real life situations are purely coincidental

Disclaimer:

I don't own anything.

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

Sherlock was in need of a fix.

Bad.

After John found him, he took him straight to the airport and shoved him in a bathroom where he was instructed to clean up the best he could; providing him with a change of clothes after which they boarded a plane. He had been restless throughout their journey from London to Boston, blatantly ignoring his companion's occasional attempts at a conversation. He was already furious at the fact that his brother had unceremoniously shipped him and John to America under the guise of an interesting case. He knew better of course, this was another one of Mycroft's schemes to keep him out of reach of drugs. Obviously thinking that if he was away from his contacts, it would hinder him from being able to procure any of his favored substances. It had been approximately 24 hours since his last shot and the increasing craving he felt was not helping alleviate his mood.

It was in situations like these that he had to rely on the power of his mind.

Coming out of his thoughts he took notice of his surroundings. He and John were seated at the back of a sedan parked outside a building which was crowded by what he assumed to be students settling in in preparation for the upcoming semester. He took in the ambiance of student life. The activity. The noise.

It was hateful.

He then turned to John who appeared to have been saying something while he was lost in his thoughts. He looked at him confused.

"What?" Sherlock said.

John sighed. He knew all too well that his friend, albeit his mental acuity has little to no situational awareness especially for mundane conversation. He braced his patience and started over.

"I said. This is where we'll be staying for the next couple of months, Vanderbilt Hall. Mycroft said it would be easier for us to gather information about the case if we were to blend in. I would be posing as a foreign teacher here to do research and you'll be a medical student." John explained.

"A student? That's ridiculous! I am perfectly capable of solving a case without resorting to use a false identity" Sherlock scoffed. His face contorted in annoyance.

"Look, Mycroft said the case was sensitive-"

"And what is the case exactly?" Sherlock cut off.

Sherlock was really trying John's patience. John silently reminded himself that his friend was starting to feel the effects of withdrawal and was not in best form. He tried to explain again, as calmly as he could.

"There have been an increasingly alarming number of sexual abuse victims in this campus. Now I know what you are going to say" John said, cutting off his friend who was on the verge of interrupting. "No, it's not just some unrestrained blokes having gone too far at a party. The victim's circumstances are all different. What ties them together is that they somehow lose consciousness and wake up somewhere far from where they were last seen last, with no recollection of what happened to them and with obvious signs of abuse. And no. there weren't any drugs in their system" John added.

"As serious as this issue is, it's hardly a matter of importance to English government" Sherlock scoffed. "Why would Mycroft have me involved in this?"

"He said he owes someone a favor. And due to the nature of the case, discretion is needed" John explained.

"He's the one who owes a favor not me. He can damn well –"Sherlock started to say but stopped when he saw the look on John's face. "Not good?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"No Sherlock. Not good. Now come on, let's get out of this car and have ourselves settled in the dorm. The sooner we start this the sooner we can leave. Yeah?" John said as he patted his friend on the shoulder and started to open the car door to his side.

"Oh well alright" Sherlock replied resigned as got out of the car.

They grabbed their suitcases from the car boot and made their way into the building. Sherlock was reeling from the immense activity around him. He never liked student crowds even during the time he was a student. He resented the mindless chatter that littered the crowded hall. He tried to pay no mind to it and followed John, occasionally dodging someone as they made their way through the crowd. After a couple of minutes of walking John finally stopped in-front of a door, it was room 221.

"Well, here's us" John said brightly as he opened the door and bade his friend to go in. Sherlock entered the room and was instantly uncomfortable. It was a sparsely decorated room with an ensuite bathroom. His impression of the room didn't get any better when he finally noticed that there were three sets of beds, desks and dressers.

"Three. Oh perfect. "Sherlock muttered as he made his way to the bed. John was about to ask what Sherlock had meant when another person came into the room and joined them.

"You the new guys then? Great. The name is Anderson. Philip Anderson. My food is all labeled so I'll know if you eat anything. My stuff is off limits as well. I'll be doing some very important work so I would appreciate if you kept the noise to a minimum" The man said arrogantly. Sherlock looked at the man appraisingly. He was on the tall side but not taller than Sherlock, had sallow skin and greasy hair. Sherlock assessed his clothes and level of personal grooming and automatically categorized his new roommate as of no importance; a pompous idiot, based on his manner of introduction, but an idiot nonetheless. Sherlock lied on the bed in a fetal position and turned to the side of the wall.

"Well err hello" John said, giving out his hand. "My name is John Watson. I'm a teacher doing some research here. And that guy over there is Sherlock Holmes. He's a med student. First year" he added.

Sherlock found himself annoyed at John's attempts as pleasantries with this non-entity. He shot off the bed and grabbed John's outstretched hand as Anderson was about to take it.

"I'm starving John. I saw a bar across the street. Come on" Sherlock said as he dragged his friend out the door. Leaving Anderson confused and alone.


End file.
